Evil in Hockley (20 page)

He was content with his ignorance and
glowing like a firefly when his cell buzzed.

“Harry here.”

“You sound sloshed. You’d better sober
up because a man’s coming all the way from Los Angeles to help you
sleep. Forever.”

It was Lenea. He found her a mild
annoyance at times but today she was an intrusion.

“So. Bring him on. We’ll meet on main
street at high noon.”

“You’ll never get there. He’ll gas you
with cyanide before then.”

“A gas guy?”

“Harry, pay attention. He’s a
pro.”

“Like the last three you took
out?”

“No, this guy’s the best. Top dog.
Word’s out he’s in so no one else will come after you.”

“Great I’ll tame him, put him in the
shed and I’ll be in the clear. Nobody will bother me while I have
the best in my shed.”

“Harry, you’re missing the big picture
again.”

“Which is?”

“Your net worth. If you take out this
guy then you’re in the big leagues. Who knows what you’ll be
worth.”

“The highest mob nuisance value ever
recorded, right?”

“Now you get the idea.”

“Lenea, I admit I’m a bit under the
weather but all I see is me taking the chances by being a target
while you get the benefit. Am I missing something?”

“Who saved your butt last time. Where
would you be if not for me?”

Harry said,

“Joe killed Shelley.”

There was a silence.

“I hadn’t heard. I’m sorry, I know you
were all close.”

Harry asked.

“Do you know when Top Dog is
coming?”

“Yah, I’m to meet him at the airport
tonight and bring him up to speed. I get fifty thousand just for
that. Chump change compared to the four hundred thou he’ll get for
killing a drunk.”

“Bye Lenea.”

“I’ll call after I pick him
up.”

“Okay, whatever.”

Harry was just starting to get
somewhere and now another game of cat and mouse.

Ch
apter 36

Lenea waited at the arrival gate for
flight 923 from Los Angeles arriving at nine that night. She was
told he had her description and he’d find her in the visitors’
area.

The flight arrival was announced so she
stood and scanned the incoming passengers. One by one they went
through the metal detector and were cleared. The last passenger was
cleared yet no one approached her. She all of a sudden got it. The
so called best wouldn’t be where he was expected to be. He wouldn’t
be the best if he did that, would he? She stood where she was for
another ten minutes. To men she was just another dumb broad so why
not act like one.

She left the airport and walked out to
her car knowing he’d be somewhere out here. She felt as though she
were being watched. A tourist bus stopped at the curb and the
passengers exited and came her way. As a man brushed by she felt
the pin prick of a needle enter her arm. She backed away but
immediately felt dizzy. Arms held her tight before she fell and
walked her toward a parked car. She was groggy and couldn’t put
thoughts together or coordinate her muscles to a degree where she
could escape.

Lenea saw car and street lights zoom by
as she sat on the passenger side of a sedan. She eyed the driver
but couldn’t quite make out his face. She realized her fate wasn’t
in her hands.

Lenea woke in a musty basement lit by a
single bulb. The walls were cement and there were no windows. The
total area was about twenty feet square. She was tied to a metal
chair, hands and feet. There was no gag over her mouth so she knew
she couldn’t be heard if she shouted. She wouldn’t at any
rate.

An hour passed and a slim man entered,
a smile on his face.

“Good day young lady. You’re Lenea,
right?”

She didn’t answer.

“You’ve found out by now that I never
meet anyone and am never where I’m supposed to be when I’m supposed
to be there. Never. I’ve never been identified as the perpetrator
of a crime simply because no one’s seen me near the scene and those
who have…”

He paced and stared at her.

“You’re to be my only contact and
you’ll help me with my task. Is that clear?”

Again Lenea didn’t answer. She felt a
searing pain at the base of her spine. It almost made her pass out
but she judged that the intensity was short of doing that.
Otherwise what would be the point of torture if a person slipped
into never land when the heat was turned on.

“I asked if that was clear?”

Again she didn’t answer and she saw the
hand held device that triggered her suffering. It looked like a
gismo she used to change channels on her TV. She felt the same pain
but double the intensity for a shorter duration. More pain less
time. Of course he couldn’t do both or she’d pass out.

“I can and will increase both the
intensity and duration until the trauma shuts down your organs.
You’re of no use to me if you won’t communicate.”

“That makes sense,” she
said.

“There now that wasn’t too difficult,
was it?”

“Like falling off a log. What do you
want exactly?”

“To know where Harry Tanner
is?”

“That’s easy. Call Joe and he’ll give
you his address. Shit it’s probably listed in the phone
book.”

She felt the searing pain
again.

“No sarcasm please. I took the contract
without direct contact. I know nothing but the victim’s name. You
were to inform me of his whereabouts.”

“All I know is that it’s on Airport
Road, not the address. I can show you but other than that you’re on
your own.”

The searing pain again.

She said,

“Look I can make up a house number if
you want but I really don’t fucking know. Why would I protect a
mark?”

“I think it odd from the short outline
I was given and what I’ve heard about Tanner that he could escape
death so many times. I believe he has help on the inside and since
you’re always there it’s probably you.”

“You think I couldn’t use four hundred
thou?”

“Lenea, you just said you knew where he
lived so why not collect it?”

“The guy’s lucky as shit and he’s good.
He’s an assassin knocking out terrorists in the Middle East. You go
up against him and you’ll have two bullets in your head before you
can draw your gun.”

She felt the searing pain again. This
time with a higher intensity and the same duration.

“What was that for?”

“I wanted to see you
squirm.”

Lenea had nothing of his so casting any
kind of curse wouldn’t work. She judged the forward motion of her
head and knew she had about four inches of play. Not
much.

“If you’re going to kill me anyway why
would I help you?”

Another shot of pain.

“Does he have anyone close to him, a
lover?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Another high intensity, high duration
shot of pain.

“I asked does he have a
lover?”

“And I told you I’m dead meat anyway so
why should I help?”

Another higher intensity shot of pain,
same duration. It was almost unbearable.

“It’s how you die that matters at this
point.”

“I think you’re a sadistic
son-of-a-bitch and I’ll be tortured either way.”

This pain level made the contraction of
her muscles lift the chair off the ground. She was barely
conscious.

She couldn’t do more than whisper as
her head lay over the back of her chair.

She whispered.

“He has Sandy.”

“What was that? I couldn’t
hear.”

Another monster shot of
pain.

Again she tried to speak but it came
out as a whisper.

“He has Sandy.”

He came closer.

“Say again.”

Again she could only
whisper.

“He has Sandy.”

He came closer. Ear toward
her.

She flung her body and head forward
putting the chair up on its two front legs. She bit off the lower
part of his ear, and swallowed it. She had something of his so
chanted as he pressed the killer pain button. Lenea screamed her
curse. He pressed the button and she screamed seven words over and
over again. He dropped to his knees and the controller fell out of
his hands. He was hers now. She was barely conscious but uttered
the words.

“Untie me.”

He stood, took a pen knife from his
pocket, and cut her bonds.

She couldn’t stand so sat until she
regained enough strength to move. When she finally stood she noted
that at the back of the chair, low and long enough to penetrate her
skin, was a sharpened probe attached to an electrical device behind
the chair.

She limped out of the basement and up a
set of stairs. The night air was fresh so she took a deep breath.
He’d taken her car and parked it near this abandoned farm house.
She went back inside and retrieved her slave, told him to get into
the car, and drove to a road where car lights were abundant. She
pressed the GPS buttons that would take her to Harry’s house. If
the best, number one hit man in the world, had turned on her GPS
he’d have seen “Harry’s House” labelled on the start up
page.

Lenea was beginning to realize that her
scheme for raising the price on Harry’s head had some flaws. The
higher the price the more intense the competition became. She was
systematically putting herself out of the running. It was time to
reflect on her retirement strategy.

Chapter 37

It was almost morning when Harry heard
the knocking on his door and the doorbell ring. He slipped on his
clothes and stuck his Beretta in his waistband, in the back. He
approached the door and opened it slowly with one hand on his gun.
It was Lenea sipping a Tim’s coffee escorted by a strange man. His
eyes were non blinking and his manner almost metallic.

“This is the guy I told you about,” she
said.

Harry looked her up and
down.

“Don’t you ever wash?”

“Harry, aren’t you going to invite me
in. I’ve been up all night trying to save your butt.”

“Come in Lenea.”

She dragged on the metallic man’s shirt
and he followed, walking as though his knees couldn’t
bend.

“You can put him in your shed if you
want. Do whatever you decide is best.”

“What about the big
picture?”

“Ah, you know. A dream’s a dream. Maybe
I should leave it as such.”

That didn’t sound like the Lenea he
knew.

“What’s the gig Lenea?”

“I think we need to take out Joe
Sharky. He’s done enough damage to both sides, yours and
mine.”

Karma walked into the living room,
claws out.

“And what’s in it for you?”

“Hi sis, long time no see. You’re
looking good for your age.”

“I asked what’s in it for
you?”

“Well you got me there Karma. Joe
Sharky’s got a floor safe in his house. Whether it be a dollar or a
hundred thousand I walk away with the contents of the safe. You get
Joe and I get the dough. Deal?”

Harry laughed.

“You get Joe and I get the
dough?”

Harry laughed again.

Lenea had a smile on her face but Karma
had a judgemental frown on hers.

“Lighten up Karma, you’ll get worry
lines.”

Sandy walked into the room and stood
beside Karma. They both stared daggers into Lenea.

“Well, I don’t want to wear out my
welcome so bye for now. Call me Harry. Let me know what you want to
do.”

She left dragging the metallic guy
behind her.

Harry couldn’t believe life at times
and Lenea never.

Harry had a bath and
breakfast.

He finally found the time to sniff the
bottle of Morning Mist perfume.

“Put some on Sandy, and you too Karma.
I want to see what it smells like on people.”

They reluctantly applied a small
amount. He sniffed them both.

“Happy?”

“Yah Sandy, like an old hound dog I’ve
got the scent.”

Harry threw his Hemi Cuda into gear and
drove down Highway 9 then took 10 north to Shelburne. He had no
idea whatsoever what he was going to do when he got to his
destination. He had the bottle of Morning Mist on the front seat
but couldn’t rationalize why he’d decided to bring it along. He’d
drive around town until he conjured up a scheme.

He decided to drop by Dave Harper’s
garage and pay him a visit. When he arrived the closed sign was
still in the front window and his car wasn’t there. A couple of old
60’s relics sat in the yard alongside a rusted out pickup truck. He
reasoned Dave was still at home so drove to his farm. His car
wasn’t there either but his wife, Iris, stood in the door beckoning
Harry to come inside.